


Unwoven

by stardropdream



Category: Chobits
Genre: F/F, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:37:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minoru invites Sai to his home in order to help perfect Yuzuki's programming and data-gathering regarding Kaede's personality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unwoven

She sets the tea down and sits on the couch opposite of the chair Sai is sitting in. Yuzuki observes her, entering her face into her database. She knew what Sai looked like already, of course, as Minoru had taken particular care to enter in all known information of his sister’s friends and acquaintances, but this is the first time she’s been able to see Sai close up and in person. It’s necessary to enter in all new information. 

Sai is not looking at her, and instead picks up the teacup Yuzuki proffers with particular aggression, although Yuzuki cannot define many of the expressions that flit across Sai’s face. As it stands, Yuzuki can understand why Sai is reacting this way.

“I understand that it must be strange,” Yuzuki offers her as way of apology, as this is what Kaede’s personality would dictate – keep the peace, soothe the ruffled feathers, be diplomatic and kind. 

“You don’t understand at all,” is all Sai says, and it isn’t exactly said unkindly, but unthinkingly. This is the way of humans, Yuzuki knows independent of Kaede’s personality programming. 

“There is still much that I’m learning,” Yuzuki concedes. She smiles and Sai looks pained, looking away again from the brief moment where their eyes meet. Yuzuki understands. “But I do understand that this is strange for you. You and Kaede were good friends.”

Sai stills, and then takes a large drink from her teacup. It shakes in her hand. 

“I have been programmed with as much of Kaede’s memories and personality as Minoru-sama can remember. I believe it is satisfactory but at least from the beginning, there will be minor adjustments needed. If you can offer Minoru-sama any information, I’m sure he’d be deeply appreciative. But of course, he understands if it is too much for you to handle right now.”

Sai sets her teacup down abruptly, and it clatters on the table, spilling some of the tea over the lip. 

Yuzuki leans over and cleans it up with a towel. 

“… We weren’t friends,” Sai says at last.

“Excuse me?” Yuzuki asks, because she does not understand. She has seen the footage of Angel battles, and she has Minoru’s codes and own memories to supplement her own programming. She whirls through her data, searching for any errors in her code. But she does not sense any in the quick scan. 

“We… were not _friends_ ,” Sai says again and for the first time meets her eyes completely, not looking away, and it’s as if she is testing Yuzuki. The emphasis is enough for Yuzuki to click the missing data into place.

“… I see. You and Kaede were lovers,” Yuzuki says with a nod and regrets instantly the way Sai flinches away from the word, as if Yuzuki has thrown blades straight into her chest. Sai seems to curl into herself. “I admit that I am surprised,” she says at last. “I apologize for my error. Minoru-sama described you as good friends… said that Kaede was able to look past your aloof exterior, able to draw out the best in you despite your faults. And you made her happy through your friendship. I see now the relationship ran deeper.” 

She sits, uncertain now. Her programming has prepared her, quite strenuously, for her behavior and interaction with Minoru, and with Kaede’s friends. But she is vastly unprepared on how to deal with a significant other, a girlfriend. She has no data on which she can extrapolate, on how Kaede would have acted with Sai beyond a friendly capacity. She has the data for her public persona, but no way to know how she should treat Sai now, in order to best embody Kaede’s spirit. She has the context needed to interact with Sai the Best Friend, not Sai the Girlfriend. 

Sai is studying her now, Yuzuki realizes, watching the way her eyes flit and whirl with the data, trying to calculate the best way to proceed. She feels utterly lost, her data and programming failing her so utterly. She stares at Sai helplessly, hoping for some sign on how to proceed. 

“Sai…” Yuzuki offers, testing the dropping of an honorific. Her general knowledge of close friends and partners deals with such intimacy. 

It seems it is the wrong choice, however, as Sai’s expression darkened. 

“ _Don’t,_ ” she says. “Don’t try to act like her.” 

Yuzuki, utterly helpless, falls silent. 

Sai’s shoulders are tensed and she looks away from Yuzuki now. “You can’t ever be her. It doesn’t matter how much you try – Kaede is gone.” 

Yuzuki, logically, knows this is the case. However, “Minoru-sama has designed me to replace his sister. That is my purpose.”

“You _can’t_ replace her,” Sai snaps, standing up, her expression darkening further. “Kaede is—there is _no one_ like her and no one will ever be like her again. And she’s gone. And I—”

Sai cuts herself off before the emotion saturates each syllable of her words. Her hands fist at her sides. Yuzuki watches her, completely taken aback by the outburst. All data of Sai pegs her as a reserved, aloof individual who, once known better, can be quite kind. The data supports this. Minoru’s memories support this. 

“It’s cruel of him to do this,” she says, sitting back down again, seeming to slump a little in her shoulders but otherwise sitting up straight. “To himself, to others… to you.” 

Yuzuki shakes her head. “I wish for Minoru-sama’s happiness, as my programming dictates. I’ll do all I can.” 

“You’ll only hurt him… and yourself,” Sai says softly. 

Yuzuki files away Sai’s concerns to process and incorporate into her behavior towards her. This is all she can do. She tilts her head, tries to smile, holds herself in the way all video footage suggest Kaede held herself. 

“Sai…” she tries again, hesitates when she sees Sai tense up. “I would be willing to learn from you, if you were to teach me how to better act like her.” 

Sai shakes her head, violently, her eyes clenching shut. “Listen to me. You _can’t_. You’ll never be like her. She’s—it doesn’t matter how good he is at programming and creating persocom… it doesn’t matter. A person is – complicated. It doesn’t matter how much you know someone, it doesn’t matter how much you love someone… there is a part of them you will never know. There is…”

Sai’s hands clench, press against her chest as she tries to steady herself, and they drop away quickly to clutch at the cushion of the chair she sits in. 

“Kaede is… special. Unique. That can’t be recreated. She’s kind and she’s wonderful and – and it doesn’t matter how much that kid thinks he knows her… there are parts of her that he’ll never know, never be able to recreate.”

“Like your relationship,” Yuzuki offers.

Sai shakes her head. “Not just that. Just… There are parts of a person that only that person can know. Her thoughts, her wishes, her dreams – the things she never told anyone. Not even him. Not even me.” 

Sai goes silent after that, avoiding Yuzuki’s eyes. Yuzuki sits, silent, patient, processing the data. Logically, she knows this is the case. But she has confidence in her creator, in her “brother”. 

She cleans off the table, pours more tea for Sai, should she desire it. The teacup remains untouched, as do the little cookies Minoru had her set out before, too. 

“You’re wrong,” Sai says at last, after a prolonged silence. 

“Excuse me?” Yuzuki asks, politely. 

“Kaede didn’t ever have to ‘look past’ anything… never had to like me ‘despite my faults’,” Sai says quietly, looking down at her knees, clenching her hands tightly around them, cupping them. “She loved me. I loved her. She loved me _because_ of everything, the good and the bad. To her, there were no faults… just me.”

Yuzuki files away this data into her programming, to better hone in on the perfect embodiment of Kaede’s personality. This makes sense. This will supplement Minoru’s programming better than Minoru’s own account of the friendship. She will have to tell Minoru at their next diagnostics run. 

“I see,” Yuzuki says. 

Sai shakes her head. “No. You really don’t.” 

“You loved her very much. It is understandable that you would miss her. I am willing to—”

“You’re not her,” Sai interrupts. “I want nothing from you.” 

Yuzuki’s programming dictates that this should cause her sadness, cause her delay – but Kaede would hide this hurt. So she smiles instead, tilting her head and nodding.

“I understand.” 

“No,” Sai says. She sighs out, and stands. “Tell him that I can’t help with this. You’ll… have to learn some things for yourself. I can’t help recreate a ghost – I can’t help recreate something that will only ever be the shadow of what a little boy saw in a girl. You’ll… you aren’t Kaede.” 

She turns away, talking towards the door. Yuzuki almost calls after her.

Sai opens the door. “You never will be her. She’s gone.” 

The door shuts behind her and Yuzuki is left alone in the room, her programming grinding away to try to organize the new information, to try to understand just how she should react to Sai walking out of her life forever. 

Gone.


End file.
